


Here at the End of All Things

by Cheloya



Category: Berserk, Bleach
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-10-27 06:50:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10803993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheloya/pseuds/Cheloya
Summary: Old, imported. Some battles are worthwhile. Some endings, too.





	Here at the End of All Things

The body was shrunken and ugly, limbs wasted and gnarled, and Yumichika might have sniffed in disgust had not the soul standing over it been so beautiful. Might have tossed his hair and muttered something about the humans that inhabited this filthy land, and the ridiculous battles they fought, had he not been watching this one from the start and known that it was different.  
  
Out of all the battles that took place in the Midlands, this one alone had been worth it. Big things had been happening here in the last decade or so, but this battle had been golden. Or perhaps, Yumichika thought, as the soul turned to face him, silver was a more appropriate term. Such pale beauty would surely go ill with gold.  
  
"Quite the battle," the shinigami commented, and watched the black swordsman drop to his knees in the churned earth, reaching out with one hand, blood congealed beneath the nails - and everywhere else, if Yumichika was honest. He clicked his tongue. Not a particularly attractive man, but certainly something to watch with a sword in his hands.  
  
The sword had fallen, now, of course. The hand hovered over the corpse's hair, frozen halfway in the act of clenching. The black swordsman shook.  
  
The soul considered, and nodded with a grin as disarming as it was arresting. "A thousand years in the making," he agreed, something dark and malevolent flickering for a moment behind his eyes before it settled, coiled, and slept. "I feel much better now."  
  
Yumichika graced the soul with a grin in return, knowing the feeling. And the soul turned back for a moment, glanced down at the corpse that had once been his body - but not for a while. Not for a long, long while.  
  
"I suppose it's time," he said, as though he had wanted more, and Yumichika thought, from the set of his shoulders and the curve of his spine that he was watching the swordsman's fingers as they hesitated, yet, above the corpse's silver hair. "I don't suppose you'd consider doing a human soul a favour?" He grinned again, as though this was a great joke, but there was bitterness there that soured the ethereal beauty. Yumichika shrugged, drew Fujikujaku in preparation, and waited.  
  
"Whoever collects him," the soul said, softly. "Whenever that may be. Tell him--"  
  
Yumichika huffed a sigh. "How bothersome." He stepped closer, and held the hilt of his zanpakutou on a level with the soul's high forehead. "If it's so important to you, find him and tell him yourself. With that much bloodloss, he won't be far behind you." The mark of the konsou struck home, and the soul's eyes fluttered thoughtfully closed, a wry smile lighting his face once again, as though he knew better.


End file.
